Raised in a Sikh household, the year 1984 was often whispered about, sometimes with tears in our eyes. Its profound impact remained hidden to me until my research with Amnesty International at the age of 22. What I discovered were harrowing truths — tales of Sikh women enduring unimaginable suffering yet demonstrating extraordinary resilience. The events of 1984 were more than political upheaval; they tore apart families disproportionately affecting Sikh women who bore the brunt of violence and loss. They were not mere bystanders but active survivors — enduring sexual assault, rape, displacement, and systemic brutality.
During my research across Delhi, Punjab, and Kanpur, I encountered Nirpreet Kaur, a student at Delhi University in 1984 whose father fell victim to a murderous mob. Her story echoed countless others — women displaced, mourning lost loved ones, and witnessing their families disintegrate. These are the women of 1984, the Kaurs— stories of bravery amidst suffering that must be remembered and placed prominently in history. They include daughters seeking justice, mothers shielding children, and widows reconstructing lives in displacement camps after tragedy.
It is thus imperative to amplify these marginalised voices, challenging history’s tendency to marginalise women’s experiences in times of violence and turmoil. They become the first casualties of violence, displacement, and trauma. Despite this, their stories are frequently reduced to passive victims rather than active participants in shaping history. It’s about acknowledging their pivotal roles beyond victimhood, as courageous agents of historical change.
Operation Blue Star marked a critical juncture for Sikh women caught between state repression and militancy. Subsequent anti-Sikh violence exacerbated their plight, leaving enduring scars from the turbulent 1980s. Remembering 1984 necessitates confronting gender violence in conflict. These women deserve recognition not only for their resilience but for justice — truth and acknowledgement of their place in history.
Their pursuit of justice faces political obstacles and institutional indifference. They demand to be heard, their suffering recognised, and their perpetrators brought to justice — not as political tokens, but as essential rights and dignities. This isn’t about erasing history but confronting it — acknowledging the wrongs and striving for a future where such atrocities never recur, where the voices of survivors shape healing policies.
Their stories compel action and solidarity. They urge us to amplify their voices, draw lessons from their resilience, and stand together for justice. They are living testaments demanding empathy and action. Honouring the women of 1984 means listening to their narratives, learning from their experiences, and collaborating for justice. It’s how we honour their resilience and pave the way for a fairer world for all.
The Sikh massacre of 1984 starkly illustrates how gendered violence during conflict disproportionately affects women. Amid the ensuing chaos, Sikh women faced horrific acts of sexual violence, rape, and brutalisation. They were targeted not only for their religious identity but also because of their gender — a dual jeopardy that compounded their suffering. Women like Nirpreet Kaur, who witnessed her father’s brutal murder, and Jasmeet Kaur, entangled in militant activities, exemplify the dual impact of political and gender-based violence. These women weren’t just witnesses to unfolding history — they were agents of resilience, navigating personal loss and societal upheaval.
Throughout history, conflicts have perpetuated a gender bias where women’s stories are overshadowed by men’s, and their contributions minimised or erased. This systemic erasure denies them justice and perpetuates cycles of trauma. It’s crucial to recognise that women’s experiences in conflict are integral to understanding the full scope of human suffering and resilience. Operation Blue Star and its aftermath further underscored the vulnerability of Sikh women. Caught between state repression and militancy, they faced impossible choices — struggling to survive amid violence and political turmoil. The subsequent anti-Sikh violence in 1984 compounded their suffering. Women like Kulbir Kaur endured torture, imprisonment, and witnessed atrocities committed by state forces. Their stories, while harrowing, are essential for acknowledging the injustices inflicted upon them and their communities.
Today, as we reflect on the legacy of 1984, applying a gender lens to history is crucial — a lens that amplifies women’s voices, acknowledges their agency, and demands justice for gender-based violence. This entails not only recognising their resilience but also ensuring their stories are integral to how we understand and teach history. The fight for justice continues for these women. Decades after 1984, many perpetrators of violence against Sikh women remain unpunished, and their crimes unacknowledged. This perpetuates a culture of impunity that undermines efforts for reconciliation and healing. Honouring the resilience of these women requires confronting the uncomfortable truths of gender violence in conflict. Remembering the women of 1984 demands more than commemoration — it demands action. It urges amplifying their voices, rectifying historical narratives, and advocating for justice and equality. Their stories aren’t just history; they’re a call to confront injustice and build a future where all survivors are heard, respected, and supported in their pursuit of justice and healing.
(The author recently published The Kaurs of 1984 with HarperCollins India.)